


"Why?"

by notjustmom



Series: Box of 64 [27]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 06:47:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: I don't have any way to make sense of the events of last night in Manchester, and I don't discuss these events with my children, as they aren't mature enough to know how to deal with this, so, I'm going to let Sherlock try to help Rosie understand why people do bad things....





	"Why?"

"Ro?" Sherlock knocked on Rosie's door, and after hearing a quiet, "Come in," entered her bedroom.

"What's going on, sweetie?"

Rosie had spread out the day's newspaper on her bed, and had obviously spent a good part of her evening studying it. "Why, Da, why do people - what makes people do such terrible things? Every day, it's just page after page of bad stuff. I tried to think it out, logically, solve it, like an equation, but there seems to be no reason for it, other than people just being mean. I don't understand -"

Sherlock sat on the bed next to her, looked down at the paper, and saw all of the incidental unkindnesses, murders, and terrorist attacks and blew out a breath. "There are many reasons, well, what detectives, like your Uncle Greg, call 'motives.'

"Motives?"

Sherlock nodded, and opened up his arms for Rosie to curl up into. She was ten, going on 30, and thought she knew everything, but there were times when she needed help with understanding the world she lived in. 

"When I work on cases, figuring out why someone did something is one way I can solve them. Usually it's about money, or when relationships don't work out, but sometimes it's completely random. No reason at all, those are the hardest cases for me, when someone is just so angry about something that they can't find another way to deal with what's going on in their head and they lash out." Rosie sat up and pointed to an article about an explosion, with a question in her eyes. He sighed and pulled her back into his arms. "Sometimes, and I don't really understand it myself, Ro, sometimes, there are people who are willing to hurt a lot of people because they - well, I guess, they have a hard time figuring out how to live peacefully with other people. They can't see people as individuals, with families, and dreams, they just see them as the 'other', someone different than themselves."

Rosie nodded against his chest and mumbled, "I just feel so helpless, Da. I should be able to do something, to make it better."

Sherlock kissed her hair and held her tighter. "All you can do is love those around you as hard and as fiercely as you can, Ro. I wish I had a better answer, an easy solution, but I just don't know. I'm sorry." 

 

John struggled up the steps to the flat after a double shift to find Sherlock playing his violin quietly at the window; a new composition, gentle and questioning, mourning something, yet hopeful. John sat in his chair and closed his eyes.

"She wanted to know why, John. Why people do bad things. And I had to tell her that I didn't know. I mean, I know why I did what I did - when I was away, I was trying to get home. The people who can - I can't even begin to understand it, John, I had to tell her I didn't know why, or how to fix it. I usually have an answer, John, I can make it better, and this time, all I could do was tell her to love the people around her. I didn't have anything else to offer her, John." He stopped speaking and continued to play until John laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"There are times when she will need to know that we don't know everything; this is one of those times, love. She needs to know that we are here and even when we don't have the answers, we won't stop being here for her and loving her. Sometimes that's all we can do."

"It could have been - how -"

"I know. When I was in Afghanistan, I saw families, families who still did what they always did every morning, even after such losses you can't even imagine, but they kept going, Sherlock. If we freeze up, stop her from going places, from exploring, from growing up, they have done what they set out to do, they want to change us; stop us from being who we are. All we can do is keep loving each other, and tell her that the world is worth loving, even when terrible things happen."

"Do you believe that, John?"

John nodded against Sherlock's back, feeling the old scars through the thin dressing gown, with trembling fingers. "I do, because, after everything we've been through, you are here. I am here. We are here together, raising a brilliant, feisty, thoughtful and loving daughter. We have seen so much ugliness, we know how the world can be, we've seen it, but, we can help her to try to make the world better, Sherlock, by showing her that there is love, there is goodness in the world, even when it seems so dark and scary. Hopefully, that will be enough." John walked in front of Sherlock and took his violin and bow from him, and laid them in the case, then took Sherlock's hands in his, and whispered, "It has to be enough."


End file.
